Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)(23)
The horses were stopping and I was irritated I hadn’t learned to lead them yet. Chevelle stepped down and started a fire. He walked away and I thought of what he had said earlier in the day, that you could stop someone’s heart. I wondered if that was how he killed his prey. He was already making his way back, carrying two small rabbits and a branch covered in some sort of blood-red berries. I sulked over to the fire and plopped down on a small rock. I watched him prepare the meal without speaking but I couldn’t tell if he was sorry and intended to give me my space or just indifferent. I silently wished Steed was here to build me a shelter so I could lock myself away until tomorrow. I wasn’t about to try to build one on my own and risk embarrassing myself in front of Chevelle.
I glanced from him to the cooking meat, and then the flames licking up from below. They writhed and jumped, forming shapes that pulled at my thoughts. I tried to think but I couldn’t seem get my thoughts to work right. I could remember my dreams. I could remember the wind and fire in my dreams, surrounding my mother. But the memories that came back when I woke from the vivid dreams were dull and so hard to grasp. Each time I tried to clear them they drew back from me. They were fuzzy and refused to cooperate.
As recognition dawned on me I jumped from the rock and cursed Chevelle. He turned to me with his standard composed expression. “Give it back!” I yelled. He was baffled but I was so angry I was having trouble forming the demand. “Give my memories, my mind back!” The confusion cleared, but he didn’t offer a response. I could feel the fire itching to burn him. I seethed. “Unbind my thoughts.”
“Freya.” His voice was calm and smooth. “You don’t understand.”
I fumed, “Well, I’m sure that has nothing to do with you rummaging around in there.”
He calmly shook his head and I realized it was possible he couldn’t free my thoughts. Surely, the council had bound me, likely all of them would need to reverse it. I couldn’t ask, I was too furious to pursue a conversation with any kind of composure. I let out a guttural growl and clenched my jaw shut.
I considered running back to the village. But how could I get council to release me?
And then I looked down the mountain. I didn’t even know how to get back to the village. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I stared at my palms, I didn’t know where I was going either.
Low on options, I forced myself to allow the anger to settle a few notches. Maybe I would be able to remember more with the dreams, with the mountains, with wherever my family’s map was taking me. I could see no other way but the course we were on.
It was days before I spoke to Chevelle again, but he didn’t seem to mind the lack of conversation. He just rode as he always did, quiet, with intermittent glances in each direction, and as if he were traveling alone. He hadn’t appeared to notice my behavior at all. I finally broke the silence one evening as we navigated a narrow pass.
“How long will we be riding?” I wasn’t specific in my question, not wanting to reveal I had no idea where we were going. He'd been under the false impression he'd had to take me, I wasn't about to mess that up and be dragged back to the village after everything that had happened. My horse quickened its pace to ride alongside his and I made a mental note to learn how to control it on my own. The constricted path forced us close together, our stirrups and legs occasionally touching as we rode. He nodded at my hand and I held it out, palm up.
He indicated a spot on one of the mountains. “We are here.”
I tried not to show my disappointment. The information hadn’t really helped because I didn’t know where I started on the map or where it was taking us. At least I knew we were closer.
When we came through the pass our path widened but the horses didn’t separate as I had expected them to. I took the chance. “How do I control Steed?”
I could see the humor in his eyes at my question but he kept a straight face. “Just think of where you want him to go and lead his head so.”
I concentrated on turning his head left and we were instantly spinning, the unexpected twirl throwing me half from my saddle.
Chevelle caught my arm and righted me on my now still horse. “Maybe not so severe next time.”
I flushed. I focused on his head again, turning it back to our course, and gave him a small nudge with my heels.
I was cautious after that but it became easier to control his movement as we rode. I practiced guiding him, eventually even maneuvering him back and forth between the rocks and small brush on our way. But I was still afraid to try kneeling when we stopped for the evening, imagining him rolling on top of me if I tried. I slid down and stretched my legs, glad for a rest after the hours of tensing every time the horse changed direction. The evenings were cooler now and I ran my hands over my arms to warm them.
I started as black swirled around me, and then realized Chevelle had thrown a cloak over my shoulders. He turned in front of me to hook the clasp. His dark eyes were piercing as he stood so close, looking into mine. My heart stuttered as he started to lean toward me. Our faces were unbearably close and he was still moving in. Just before his face touched mine, it slid alongside my cheek, his mouth at my ear. I froze as he spoke low, his breath on my neck sending a shiver through me. “Stay still.”
In a flash he was gone. He moved so fast it took me a second to catch up with what had happened. He had pulled the hood of the cloak over my head and was standing several feet in front of me, facing away. I focused on him, trying to understand when I saw two men come into view. I hadn’t seen them before; they must have been concealed, or camouflaged by magic as I had been several days ago. They were dressed in long robes and I recognized the tassels hanging from their necks. Council members. I wasn't familiar with the elves though; they mustn’t have been from the village.